10

"I was kind of hoping you'd accept me, and I wouldn't have to go," Justin says with a sigh. "All I've ever wanted is to live together with you guys. One of the pack. I've dreamed about it since I was a kid. It's amazing what you can do!"

Of course I do. I've spent years documenting everything that's happened since the incident in Jackson. Even before that, there's history dating back decades. Some of it's pretty sketchy because you guys hid yourselves well. Most of the early researchers were called conspiracy nuts back in the day."

"It's just amazing to me that you'd want to be treated like we've been. Especially since you've already spent so much time looking into our problems. It's not like you're ignorant about what's going on here."

"It's just how I feel. Feelings aren't always convenient to the one having them."

"Really?" Justin's eyes go wide with excitement. "You really mean it?"

"If it means that much to you, yes," you say, hoping you haven't made a big mistake.

"You won't regret it, Decaarr! This is going to be amazing, I know it!"

"Keep your voice down," you say under your breath. "Not everyone will be as happy to have you here. You'll need to keep a low profile for now. If anyone calls you out, you can tell them to come see me, and I'll back you up. But try not to let that happen. Low profile. We have much more important things to deal with right now. I'm sure you understand."

"Absolutely!" Justin says, jumping to his feet. "Discretion is my middle name!"

You wince as the boy trips on a nearby chair, staggers, and lands on his feet with all the grace of a drunkard.

"Go back to the office where Razor caught you," you say. "You'll be safe there for now while I figure out what else to do. And keep your head down!"

Justin grins and salutes you. "Don't worry, boss, it'll be like I'm not even here!"

Turning your attention back to the fire as Justin leaves, you lose yourself in its flickering oranges and yellows. You spring upward as a hand falls to your shoulder, as though electricity sparks from its fingertips.

"We're heading out," Tiva says. "You should get some sleep, Decaarr. You look awful."

You shake your head, but you can't deny it to yourself. You're running on empty. "I'll be out soon," you tell Tiva. "Just need to think for a bit."

"Suit yourself," she says. "Just don't stay up all night if you want to be any good to anybody. It kills me to say it, but you've become pretty important here. No idea what makes you so special, but Ahote believed in you, and that's good enough for me, and for a lot of folks."

She runs a finger along the scarring on her face as she turns away. "Better you than me. I've got to see if I can catch up with Lapu. The idiot was muttering and talking to himself all weird-like during the meeting. I know we haven't always been the closest since the incident, but I tried to ask him what was wrong and he just shoved past me, said he was sorry. I mean, what the hell, right? It's messed up, but I'm actually worried about him. Anyway, I'll see you later. Get some damn sleep, Decaarr." She heads for the door.

Eventually you grow weary of the fire and its grim portents, silencing it for good with a bucket of water set aside for just such an occasion. Steam rises in a hissing rush, and you rise with it, eager to call an end to the day.

Next

You walk down the lonely streets of Haven, lost in anxious thoughts and concerns for your future when you see a humanoid silhouette high above you, perched on the crumbling edge of an old apartment building at least six floors off the ground. You squint into the moonlight to get a better look.

Light glints off a shoulder-length mane of golden hair. Lapu? What is he doing up there? And in human form?

The figure—you're almost sure it's Lapu now—takes a hesitant step toward the abyss as the remnant of a choking sob makes its way down to you on a chill wind. Could he really be thinking of jumping? If you're going to do something, you'd better do it quickly!